On Saturday night I made my way in a Rikki taxi to attend what I expected to be an Afrikaans sokkie-jol in the heart of a suburb of Cape Town. We pulled up outside the rugby hall to hear what sounded like evangelical music pouring out the window. I looked around at the people in the taxi and thought ‘here we go’. We laughed and nervously went inside, hoping for the best. It was our friends’ joint birthday party and we weren’t going to let some scary Christian musiek keep us away.
When I got inside the hall, however, all preconceptions dissipated to leave behind a sense of wonder. At this tiny little hall dozens of gay and lesbian couples danced lang-arm to the latest and oldest Afrikaans treffers. They were a marvel on the dance floor, spinning and twisting in perfect time to some intense sokkie-sokkie tunes. It was a rhythm that was unfamiliar to me, and I soon learnt that my lang-arm skills left much to be desired.
What was interesting about this party was that it played into so many stereotypes while shattering so many others. It was an Afrikaans gay party (shattered stereotype of AWB-style homophobia), and there were a maximum of four black people in the entire place (reinforced stereotype of racial separation). The gay men were much better dancers than the lesbian women (reinforced stereotype of gay men dancers), and the lesbian women were often much bigger than the gay men (shattered stereotypes of acceptable women’s bodies). It was difficult to see which partner was leading (shattered stereotype of one masculine one feminine partner), and the dance moves, while culturally specific, were extremely controlled and well performed (shattered stereotype that white people can’t dance). It was really interesting to be there, and even more interesting to participate in.
We were soon to discover that if you got in the way the angry and stern-faced barman would soon kick you to the corner, and if you bumped someone you would be deemed ‘wildly inconsiderate’ and shouted at. Many people simply sat on the sides watching the dancers. The whole thing was into an intense performance of dancing skills and prowess, which I’m sure is replicated in straight clubs (I don’t go to them, so not sure).
I left exhausted at 1.30, after many cheers to George Michael and Kurt Darren, and thought about the many worlds that were happening outside of the one I live in. Are there similar gatherings in townships? Why do these Gat parties only happen a few times a month? It really made me happy to have been to one, and I wonder if South Africans who are afraid of homosexuality would be able to justify their fear after going to one of these parties?
I don’t think so and I think attending one was a great thing to do on a Saturday evening. I’m definitely going to practice my lang-arm and try again sometime soon.
Ja it’s great fun, we go every now and then. Perfect place to pick up or meet an old fashioned plattelandse (country) boy or girl, if that is what your into. No metrosexuals here
Having the Gat Party every weekend will not work as these homely folks don’t go out every weekend (money being one reason), they stay at home over weekends, have a braai and listen to Afrikaans music with like-minder friends and the dogs.
souti to the bone, but gat parties are great!
OMW…
When I looked at the heading of the article, I had a totally different picture of what a ‘gat party’ would be.
The Praetor
Two questions: why is it called ‘n Gat’ party if no one brought any firearms to the event ?
Why did you leave so early, you don’t look old on your picture?
Now, if we could only do something about your fear of evangelical religion.
Been there often, and I’m straight (went with friends).
Best jol in years!!!
Hi Jenifer,
I am a Cameroonian Lawyer now on further studies in North America. I am equally one of your secret admirers and a very keen reader of Jeneral ideas. There is a saad and shocking stories in the Cameroon newspapers where a man is now divorcing his wife , reason being that when she was being raped, her cries showed enjoyment and not cries for help.Go to Eden newspaper cameroon and thepostwebedition both of this month. When I first read it, tears ran down my eyes and I kept thinking of Jeneral idears and you. BYE.
Dear Tanyi-Mbianyor S. Tabi,
Your comment nearly brought me to tears. Thank you so much for it. If you have the link to that Cameroonian newspaper let me know and I will go to have a look.
I wish you all the strength and faith in this world. Do not lose hope. We are women. We can make our voices heard. We must now link arms with one another and convince the world that power doesn’t have to mean ‘power over someone’ but it can be a positive type of power that we can extend out to support others and help them.